What Makes It Wrong for Us to Fall in Love?

"Alright! This tour has been fucking awesome!" Brian yelled, earning howls from the crowd before us. "Not the best one, but whatever." Brian continued, this time, more quiet. "So before we play this last song, I just wanna thank every single one of you for coming out!"

John took his mic closer to him and continued for Brian. "You guys are fucking amazing! We love you guys!"

"And we'd also like to thank the guys of The Maine!" Brian cut John off. "Raddest guys ever! Everyone give it up for The Maine!"

And the crowd cheered.

"Alright. So this song is called Young and it's really fun so sing along, okay?"

We played the song, and I felt great. That was the last show of the tour, the last date of the tour, and that tour was just horrible for me. Except for the part of me and Kennedy getting back together, but everything else sucked. My band mates hated my guts, and I didn't have my best friend. The guys of The Maine tried to understand me, especially Pat, but Kennedy was the only one who made me feel the slightest bit not lonely.

"Good night, everyone!" Brian yelled again.

I started to do a simple drum exhibition which I always did before throwing my sticks to the audience on the last show of a night.

I felt myself smiling in relief because I knew that was the last time I was gonna do that for at least a couple of months.

My smile quickly faded and the crowd's cheers drowned out in my ears when I felt pain jolting through my left wrist.

"Fuck!" I yelled, dropping my sticks, my hand covering my wrist immediately. I stared. There wasn't any blood, but it hurt so fucking much. It was either I sprained my wrist or a muscle got pulled or something like that.

The beats were gone, and the first thing that stopped after my drumming was the vibrating caused by the bass.

I looked up to see Stephen running to me, dropping his bass in the middle of the stage. He saw that tears were already streaming down my face before even I realized it.

He dragged my headphones off and brushed my hair out of my face. He picked my sticks up and threw them to the crowd then checked my wrist out.

The rest of my band mates rushed to me, soon stopping everything else that caused music. There were gasps from the people in the audience and they were shocked too.

It was hurting so much and I couldn't stand the pain any more. All I knew was I was screaming.

Soon, Kennedy was right by my side. The rest of my band mates backed off. And yes, that included Stephen.

"Shh, babe. Don't cry. Don't cry." Kennedy wiped the tears off. He kissed me quickly then helped me up. "Stop crying, babe. Shhh."

I nodded and sobbed into his chest.

He gently pulled back and held my hurting wrist.

I yelped.

"Sorry, sorry. Shh. Come on, let's get you to a clinic or someshit."

--

"Is it better?" Kennedy pleaded me with his eyes to say yes.

I glanced at my cast then at Kennedy. "Yeah."

"Okay, well, the doctor says you have to keep it elevated or some fucking thing like that, so.." He walked me over to my bunk. "Uhmm.."

"Yeah, what is it?" I traced my fingers over a belt that was looped while hooked onto the floor of Stephen's bunk; the ceiling of my bunk.

"Well, you're just gonna keep it there while you sleep."

"Oh." I plastered on a smile. "Thank you so much, Kennedy."

"We'll meet you guys back in Arizona, just text me whenever, okay?" He kissed me softly. "I love you, Jess."

"I love you too."

"I have to go now.. So.." He gave me a hug then pecked at my lips again. "Later."

I pouted as he walked away even though I knew he wasn't coming back. I sighed then got into my bunk.

I honestly thought that after all that, I'd be feeling happier.

But no. I felt emptier.

I remembered what happened hours ago. How Stephen was the first one that came to my rescue. He just couldn't resist me, could he? No matter how mad he was at me, he couldn't help it `cause I'm his best friend. I found little comfort knowing that.

But did he really care?

I've been tossing and turning in my bunk for hours then, all the lights were shut and the area was lit up by a dark shade of blue because of the moonlight as we drove back to Arizona. I've been crying and whimpering all that time because I couldn't get any sleep and my wrist was still hurting.

My arm hung on that loop thing Kennedy set up, which meant that my bunk curtain had to slightly be open.

No one seemed to get disturbed so I just kept complaining.

My yells were muffled because of the pillow, but that didn't mean that no one heard it.

I let everything out, and I was starting to feel sorry for my pillow which was getting soaked in my tears and spit and all that other shit.

"Jess," I heard Stephen mumble loudly from above me. "Please."

My tears stopped coming. Stephen just spoke to me.

Not that I hadn't heard his voice. He was always talking. But that time, his voice was reaching out to me. The words he were uttering were actually meant for me to hear.

One of his arms dropped from his bunk to mine, and he was feeling around for something. His forearm caught in the loop set up.

"Please let me get some sleep." He pleaded. His hand slowly wrapped around mine. "I love you. Now let me get some sleep."

I felt a smile creeping up on my face. A genuine smile. Oddly enough, I fell asleep. Happy with one thought in mind.

He really did care.